


A Modern Major General

by orphan_account



Series: You've Got A Hunger (I Was Just Like You When I Was Younger) [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Hair Pulling, Light BDSM, Light Masochism, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Size Kink, age gap, cock slut!Hamilton, seriously gratuitous dirty talk, shaming, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 15:37:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5422517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton didn't mean to end up on his knees before his friend and mentor George Washington, and he also didn't mean to turn into a huge slut for Washington's dick, and yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Modern Major General

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mihaly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihaly/gifts).



> Well, I'm going to hell. This was so fucking weird to write, guys, you don't even know. I've written smut about God's angels (as part of the Supernatural fandom) and somehow this felt more sinful... Alas, here we are. 
> 
> This fucking ship is going to be the death of me, I swear to God. It's so fucked up, but I just... Hamilton without a daddy, and Washington without a son - IDK guys tune in later probably for some seriously fucked up daddy kink in this same verse.
> 
> Warnings for under-negotiated kink (it's the 17th century, give them a break) even though both parties are consenting and enjoy all of it, slut-shaming (again, both parties enjoy it), some emotional constipation and gay panic (internalized homophobia), and a pretty serious age gap (Washington was forty-five in 1777 when this takes place and Hamilton was around twenty-two, although his exact date of birth is unknown.)
> 
> If any of this stuff squicks you out, sorry :( this fic probably isn't for you.
> 
> All that said, read on, sinners.

Hamilton walks out of the forest, finds Washington leaning up against a tree, grimy and thin from the months in the forest with insufficient food. Nonetheless, he looks as calm, poised, and in control as Hamilton often finds him. (Those rare occasions he sees Washington's iron control break are some of the most terrifying and erotic experiences of Hamilton's life, and he's survived a goddamn hurricane.)

"Are those the last of them?" Washington asks, nodding back into the forest from where Hamilton came. He's just sent off the last of the letters he'd been up all night writing.

"Yes, sir, I'm finished. I'm going to find something to eat."

"There's nothing left, Hamilton, you know that."

"Yes, sir." Hamilton says, and tries to hide the disappointed look on his face. He's so goddamn hungry, and has been, it seems, his whole life. Still, he's had more to eat than most of the other soldiers, and it would be unfair to complain.

He licks his lips, sadly, and then nods to Washington, a goodbye. "Sir." he says, and he's about to leave when Washington take a step closer.

"Colonel Hamilton."

"Yes, sir?"

Hamilton watches Washington's eyes go dark, and he feels a sharp surge of electricity fly along the path between their eyes. He's shared many such... electric glances with the general, and always ignored them, sure that he was the only one feeling it, sure that the venerated Virginian veteran felt nothing but something fatherly and warm towards him. Now, though, Hamilton watches his expression and body very closely, and he sees, he sees the very moment the general makes a decision, watches his eyes go dark, pupils swelling, and Hamilton sees the very moment Washington decides it’s worth it. Hamilton takes a step closer and licks his lips again, more nerves than seduction.

“Open.” The word is as much a command as any Washington has given that day, and Hamilton finds himself surprisingly susceptible to this direct order. His mouth drops open, and Washington traces his cold-chapped bottom lip with the tip of one big finger, before pushing it all the way into his warm mouth.

Washington’s always been so big, so much bigger than Hamilton, and yet he feels like it shouldn’t be this filling. Washington's finger shouldn’t fill his mouth like this. Underneath his hunger, Hamilton can taste the salt of his general's skin.

Abruptly, he almost loses his nerve again, and he's shifting his weight to take a step back when Washington drags the tip of his finger over the roof of Hamilton's mouth and shivers run down his spine.

“Get on your knees.”

The snow is cold through Hamilton's breeches, and he can feel it start to melt, feels a rock digging into the sensitive skin below his left kneecap.

“Alexander, tell me not to do this.” Washington says, very clearly and concisely.

“I want to suck your dick, sir."

“Christ.” He lowers his hands very slowly, very carefully to the back of Alexander's head, palms big and warm despite the cold, and he mouths along the fabric covering the general's upper thigh. His breathing is slow and very carefully controlled and Alexander realizes through the nerves rolling in his stomach that he wants to break that iron control, wants to hear the general crying out his name. He moves his face to the general's impressive cloth-covered erection, kisses along the length of it as best he can, light little butterfly kisses that he's not even sure Washington can feel.

Evidently he can, however, because his next command is issued in a voice cut through with gravel, deep and breathy, some of his usual control gone to pieces. “Undo my pants right now.”

Alexander moves up to kiss his stomach for a moment, only a moment, before he goes to undo the gilded buttons on his general's breeches, but Washington snarls and pulls Alexander's head back sharply. “What did I say to do?”

“Take out your cock, sir.”

“What are you doing?”

“Disobeying.”

“Don’t make me hurt you.”

Washington would never hurt him, never - (he knows that) - and yet his stomach still surges with adrenaline. He undoes his buttons as quickly as possible.

“Good boy.” Broad palms on his head, stroking his long hair, more soothing than he would have thought possible.

“Can I…” Alexander trails off, unsure how to ask if he can take the general's underpants down.

“Ask for what you want, boy.”

“May I see your cock?”

“Is that all you want?”

His cheeks burn with humiliation. Always, the way the general pushes Alexander's buttons, knows how to shame him like no one else. He doesn’t want to beg for this, don’t want to beg to serve him, and yet. “Please, no, I want to suck you. I want your dick in my mouth. Please.”

“Fine.” He says, and Alexander is almost embarrassed by how relieved he is. “At least it will get you to shut up for a goddamn minute.”

Alexander pulls the fabric of his shorts down almost reverently, and the general's cock is as big as he's always imagined it would be. It’s big enough to match the rest of him, and then some, and he’s always been so goddamn huge. It's flushed purple and red, erect, thick and heavy against his stomach.

When Alexander looks up at him, the general’s smirking. “Like what you see, slut?”

Alexander runs his fingers from the base to the tip, then rubs his thumb over the slit, watches the general's heavy head thunk back against the trunk of the tree he's leaning against. The general's eyes are closed and he looks soft like this, oddly calm, less weary. Hamilton lets him savor a few moments more, and then decides that’s enough. He pulls back all the way, and watches the general's eyes open. He stares down at him, angry, and snarls “Suck”, voice deep and dangerous and expecting to be obeyed.

Alexander swallows him down as far as he can. He's never sucked a cock before in his life, and he's got more of a gag reflex than he likes to admit, so he only get half of the general's cock in his mouth before he has to stop. Still, Washington is smiling when Alexander looks up.

“Look at you, so stuffed full of my cock you can’t even take all of it. We’ll work on that, of course, you’ll be able to swallow all of me soon enough, but for a first try… Oh, you perfect little slut. It’s like you were made for this. It’s like you were put on this earth as a receptacle for my dick. God, you feel so good around me, you look so good stretched out on me, I should keep you like this. You should always have something inside you.”

Alex is whimpering, he knows he is. He tries to hum instead, and feels shivers run all over Washington. He slides his mouth over the general's cock slowly, pulls almost all the way off, before -

“What, you don’t agree?” Washington snaps. “You don’t think you were made to suck me? You arrogant bastard, get your mouth around me again or so help me God.”

His hands, previously resting softly on Alex's head, tangle themselves in his knotted hair and he yanks him forward. The tip of Washington's cock grazes the back of Alex's throat and he feels his muscles contract without his control.

“Better.” Washington says, and it’s calmer this time. Still, his hands don’t let go of Hamilton's hair, and he doesn’t let him pull back to a comfortable position. Alexander hollows his cheeks as best as he can, tries to slide further down instead, and feels his stomach roll, his throat close around the intrusion, slides off again. He repeats over and over, fucking his own mouth on Washington's dick, closing his eyes, trying to ignore his own discomfort. If this is his punishment, so be it. Washington knows he's a slut for pain. “Good boy. You know this is what you were made for, right? You’re accepting it. You’re so good like this, on your knees at my feet. What was I saying earlier, about always needing a dick inside you? I’m right, you know, you don’t feel right without one, do you? Oh, yes, Alexander, so good for me, yes, just like that.”

He strokes Alexander's cheek with his thumb, without letting go of the curls he’s holding, and says, “I’m close, boy, I want to fuck your mouth. Can I fuck your mouth?”

Alexander is nodding before he knows what he's doing. He'd say yes to anything like this, he's so hard it hurts pushing against the buttons of his pants, and he's a jittery mess, hands shaking where they’re resting, one around Washington's thigh, the other on his ass, and he’s asking Alexander if he can fuck his mouth.

“You sure? You don’t sound sure you want it.” Hamilton keens around his cock, and pulls off, because he knows what Washington is asking.

“Please, sir, please fuck my mouth, I want it so bad, I need you inside me, I need you to take control of me, I need your cock like I need water, like I need sleep, like I need a goddamn heartbeat, please please please.”

“Do you think you deserve it?” He traces the tip of his cock over Hamilton's bottom lip, leaving a trail of precome glossy and salty over his swollen lip.

“Fuck, sir, no, I probably don’t, but I want it anyway, and you’re so kind and good, and you know I’ll do anything for it, please, even if I don’t deserve it. Please, sir, please fuck my mouth. I want you so bad, you’re so glorious, I know I don’t deserve you, but I just –“

Finally, finally Washington cuts him off by shoving his cock into Alexander's mouth, all the way to the hilt, until his nose brushes the rough curls at the base of his cock, and Alexander is sure he’ll throw up, Washington barely fits down his throat and he's contracting all around him, unable to calm his muscles around the intrusion, when the general pulls him back by the hair, and then slams forward again. Again and again, his cock breaches Alexander's throat and it takes some time before he can calm down enough to realize Washington’s talking.

“… good boy, so good for me, so hot and tight, god, your throat is the perfect size for my cock, fuck, you’re so goddamn gorgeous, you know your place so well, this is like coming home, you dirty whore, you’re such a perfect slut, look how rough you like it, those eyes, Alex, fuck, keep looking at me like that, like you’d do anything for me, you, you fuuuck, Alex, I’m going to come, I – “

He pulls back and slams into Alexander's throat one more time, perfect control perfectly shattered. Alexander clenches his hands on the general's ass, and then Washington lets go of him enough to come into his mouth instead of down his throat. Alexander doesn't swallow immediately, but rolls Washington's come around on his tongue, feels a bit of it slide from his mouth, roll down his chin, and it’s just a little bitter, the taste of Washington, and Alexander loves it. Fuck, he feels so claimed by him like this, the general's come rolling down his face, filling his mouth, Washington's hand in his hair, Washington's eyes locked on his, post-orgasmic face purely blissful, and even when he hasn't had his yet, when he's still hard and aching, he feels like this is best it’s ever been.

Alexander swallows. Washington releases his hair with one hand, to scoop the bit of come off his chin, and presses the finger into Alexander's half-open, panting mouth, claiming it one last time, before he drags his finger across Alexander's bottom lip, and tucks his soft dick back into his breeches. He buttons his waistband, runs a hand across Hamilton's cheek, and says “good boy”, voice full of emotion.

Then he walks away, leaving Alexander hard and wanting, aching for him, more aroused than he's ever been, in his whole life.

Hamilton sags into the snow, body weak, and he knows he’ll get himself off, or it won’t happen at all.


End file.
